Page 31 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

The letter S?

With excitement burning through her, she reached for a parchment and the quill and ink. She hastily scribbled that first letter in her flowing handwriting.

What was S? A name? Or merely a word?

She placed her finger on the book under the mystical S. The page was warm against the tip of her finger. She followed the scrolling loop to the next rune. Before her eyes, the next letter formed as her heart pounded hard and fast.

H

She quickly wrote that down next to the S.

Her finger moved down the page. When the tip paused at the rune, another letter appeared. And so on and so on. Until she had scribbled down an entire word. She sat back in the chair and stared down at the word she’d written.

Shadows

“What shadows?”

As she said it aloud, the book seemed to whisper the word back to her.

Gooseflesh erupted along her arms and crept up to the base of her neck. A hot tingling sensation was there, piercing through her. It was as though the book heard her and replied.

She continued her moving her finger down the page and writing the letters she saw. Sitting back a second time, her eyes glanced over the two words she’d written.

Shadows stir.

She pressed her lips together. Though she wanted to say the words aloud, she was worried what might reply when she did.

What didshadows stirmean? Was this the beginning of a long, spine-chilling tale? Or was there something else buried within the brambles and thorns of the book’s language? She contemplated this when the library doors opened, catching her attention.

Leopold stood in the shaft of light from the hallway. His elongated shadow splashed across the marble floor. He seemed to pause there for a long moment, but she was unable to see his features as he was nothing more than a silhouette. She blinked, trying to focus, and realized she was squinting at the pages of the book for so long in the dimness, her eyes were gritty and tired.

“Bella?” he queried.

The doors banged closed behind him. As he moved toward her, his face came into focus. Worry and concern creased his handsome features. He paused near the table, his gaze flickering from her to the open book in front of her, to the parchment on which she scribbled words.

“It’s incredible.” She breathed the words in a roughened whisper, as though she did not want to disturb the book or garner its attention.

“You found something?”

His worry was replaced by hope as he moved closer. He leaned on the table next to her, his body heat radiating toward her. When he did, she caught his scent. He smelled like winter and wildfire—wood smoke and something sharper beneath it, like frost and sorrow. It caught her off guard, that scent. It was him. Of course, it was.

She glanced up at him, but his pale brown gaze was focused on her hastily scrawled handwriting.

“You were able to translate this?” he asked.

“Only the two words.”

“Shadows stir,” he read.

And when he did, the book whispered back something that neither of them understood. The faint whisper was still there, curling from the pages like breath brushing the edges of her mind. She shivered. As soon as the ghostly whisper emitted from the book, he jumped back, his eyes wide.

“I think the book understands,” she said. “It did the same thing when I read it aloud.”

“It…understands?”

She nodded. “And when you say the words from the book…well, it seems as though it responds. But I don’t understand what it’s saying.”

He stared at the open book as though it were a foreign object he’d never seen before. As though it were something wicked. Something dangerous. Somethingthreatening. Uncertainty was in his eyes as he continued to peer at it, not moving, not speaking. His mouth formed a thin line.

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